


Harry Potter and the Department of Aurors

by Ridingthewindsofheaven



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-10
Updated: 2019-01-01
Packaged: 2019-09-15 16:39:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16936869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ridingthewindsofheaven/pseuds/Ridingthewindsofheaven
Summary: It has been twenty years since the Battle of Hogwarts and everyone is still struggling to adjust from the civil war that has left the United Kingdom wizarding community in shambles. Lord Voldemort has been defeated but pureblood supremacy and gangs of dark wizards still linger. Detective Auror Harry Potter (aka, the man who lived) has dedicated his career to solving crimes committed using dark magic while making it his life mission to catching and convicting the last of the Death Eaters. With an inundated and understaffed Auror department, every day is a challenge of his will to survive.





	1. Chapter 1

It was the very dark hours of the early morning. It was snowing heavily by the time that Harry arrived at the scene of the crime. He frowned, he knew this was going to be a large investigation.

The scene in question was a seemingly ordinary quaint muggle cottage situated alone in the countryside. The house was well kept and from the outside there were only small indications that a muggle family had been gruesomely murdered during the night. A couple of broken windows was the only sign anything was amiss. It was also surrounded by nothing other than fields covered in snow. The only light Harry could see was that of his own wand otherwise there was just endless darkness. Muggle repellant spells were cast upon the house but there was real no need as the house had no neighbours that weren’t miles and miles away. Nobody would have heard the commotion. Nobody would have come by.

Detective Harry James Potter was 37 years old but looked much older. Being overworked and constantly stressed had aged him badly, he was scrawny and disheveled. His untidy black hair showed evidence of early greying and on most days he wore a patchy brown suede jacket over black ordinary clothes. There were only two features that remained unchanged: the scar on his forehead and the glasses on his face.

The door opened and Celestia Carrow, his investigation partner, glared at him from the doorway. Celestia was a younger witch in her mid twenties with dark hair, striking blue eyes and a wardrobe that consisted of nothing but black. She looked at him with annoyance.

“Potter, are you going to come in or not? You’re already over an hour late. The ministry detected strong dark magical activity three hours ago.”

He did not reply but instead walked into the house to see that she had brought the rest of their team to help investigate. Julius Mimbleington and Tracey Davis were waving their wands around house trying to detect traces of magic that could lead them to a wand signature or evidence of a dark magical object being involved or at the least give them an indication of what kind of magic caused this. Dennis Creevey was taking great care in collecting photographic evidence of the house, particularly the direct crime scene where the victims were found.

On the inside, the house was a total mess. Furniture was overturned and belongings broken. A television lay in pieces with its screen bashed in. A Christmas tree was found to have fallen on the floor with all of its ornaments broken and scattered. Doors were blown apart. Broken glass was all over the place. It was if someone had ransacked the place by literally just throwing objects all over the place out of rage. He could smell a familiar metallic smell in the air as soon as he entered the house. There was a lot of blood.

The worst part was the kitchen where the bodies of the Kershaws were lying next to the dining table with half finished food still on their plates. The bodies were so mangled that they were barely recognisable as people. Blood was sprayed everywhere; on the table, on the previously white walls, on the previously white ceiling. He had seen crime scenes where Death Eaters had sadistically tortured muggles leaving their bodies in pieces but this case seemed different. It seemed too unpredictable and wild. He would almost be tempted to say that it was an act of pure rage. For what reason would such seemingly ordinary muggles be killed like this he did not know.

“I have searched the bodies already,” Tracey Davis said from behind him, “It is raw magic. No wand or artifact involved. It could be some kind of beast or force but it is unlike anything we have on our magigraph records.”

Harry nodded at her, “Keep on searching.”

There was two things left untouched in the kitchen, one was a wooden cross nailed above the doorway and a framed cross stitch on the opposite wall. It was a bible quote: _“_ _I said to myself, "God will bring into judgment both the righteous and the wicked, for there will be a time for every activity, a time to judge every deed."_ _Ecclesiastes 3:17_

But how would you deliver justice to a deed like this? There were many times when Harry did not know how you would possibly give proper justice without being a monster yourself.

“Celestia, what information do you have on these muggles?” He called out.

She came in from the living room with a file and started reading from it.

“That’s what I’ve been wanting to talk to you about.” She began, “The patriarch James Kershaw and his wife Patricia owned a local fish and chip shop in the town nearby. James was also cantor at their local church. They had three children, two of which are dead here - Caitlin and Mitchell. We have tried searching the house for the youngest child, Timothy, who is nine years old but we cannot find him.”

Harry sighed, this was going to be worse for the investigation. He remembered the case where the parents were killed and the child was abducted. That was over seven years ago and the muggle child in question was later killed by the Death Eater who also killed the parents. This case had already given him bad feelings but now he felt worse. It was already a multiple homicide. It did not need to be a child abduction case too.

“We will have to search the area to make sure he has not run away or taken somewhere. I am not sure we could possibly find the boy if there does not seem to be any magical traces or physical clues as to where he could have went. He could have spent the night at a friends house and was lucky to survive or he heard the commotion from another room and ran away just in time. He could be a key witness if he survived.”

“That might not be the case Harry,” Julius Mimbleington called out pointing at the kitchen table, “It looks like there could be another person.”

There were the six plates of unfinished food on the table while there were four dead Kershaws. At least two other people were here too. Where were they? Who did the Kershaws have as a dinner guest? Was there another person missing other than Timothy? Was there a surprise attack or maybe there was a dinner conversation that lead to a violent altercation? He shook his head. There were already more questions about this case than Harry wanted and without a distinctive magical signature it was going to be difficult.

Celestia continued, “Potter, it says on file that Timothy is profoundly deaf. He wouldn’t have heard a thing.”

“He might have felt vibrations of things banging and being thrown around. It's possible given the state of the house.”

“Potter. Carrow. Come here,” Dennis called out from another room, “I’ve found a basement entrance.”

Celestia shrugged, “Maybe, but if Timothy had run away I assume that there would be tracks in the snow. The snow outside is too thick for someone to run away without leaving a visible trail and the weather is unforgivingly cold. He would be having a hard time if he did try to run away.”

Harry followed Dennis down to the basement with his wand illuminating the surrounds using lumos. There was a musty and damp smell to the basement. There was very little down there other than a chair, a pale of water and a table with a hammer with some nails layed on top.

Dennis spoke with a soft voice, “Its looks like these muggles were doing some weird shit in their basement.”

Dennis didn’t need to be told to take pictures. As Harry looked some more, although the basement looked relatively clean, there were drops of blood every now and again. Whether this was related to their slaughter he did not know but it would be worth looking into. He helped his colleges search the rest of the house until morning and they had searched everywhere in the surrounding regions. There was nothing of interest in lands near the house nor was there any sign of the youngest child.


	2. The Marvelous Ms Granger

“It was nice of you to stop by Harry,” Hermione said with a smile as she opened the front door to her house, “Come in, you look like you could relieve yourself of whatever is burdening you.”

Hermione’s house was delicate and clean. The inside had elegant ornate furniture that was a warm maroon colour scheme. There was a subtle smell of vanilla in the air. 

Normally, he was not allowed to talk about his work with anyone that was not connected with certain cases but for Hermione he made an exception. Being a high level member of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, his cases often turned into hers. He was however careful not to give her many details.

“It was a rough night. We had a multiple homicide of a muggle family last night with the youngest son missing.”

Hermione looked at him in shock, her hand immediately covered her mouth.

“Those aren’t the muggles in northern Cheshire are they? They were all over the muggle news. Police are still looking for the youngest son.”

“Unfortunately so, we haven’t found him either.”

Hermione shook her head, cases like these frustrated her too. Without a distinctive magical signature or wand that casted the magic available the case would be hard to prove in court. That’s if they managed to find a killer.

“Enough about me, how are you?”

Hermione shrugged, “It has been quiet since Artemis started back at Hogwarts. I know that she misses home. Artemis hasn’t settled at Hogwarts yet. She was sorted into Ravenclaw. She tells me she was almost sorted into Gryffindor.”

Harry was pretty much an uncle to Hermione’s only daughter Artemis Granger. Over the years there has been much speculation as to who was the father to the girl. There has always been gossip over Hermione, Ron and himself by the wizarding society. In truth, Harry did not know who the father was only that it was not Ron.

“How is she going at school?” he asked, wanting to keep his mind off what had happened the other night.

“Artemis is doing very well academically but she is being bullied at school which breaks my heart. I feared this would happen. Artemis has always been a shy sensitive person as you know. She also has a habit of finding trouble, I think she has learnt a little too much from you. She wandered into the Forbidden Forest the other day. Her Head of House, Professor Sprout, found her wandering too close to a nest of Aragog’s descendants.”

“A habit of finding trouble? Arty is daughter of one of the most successful Wizengamot judges in our time,” he replied, “She should be a stickler for rules and regulations. I just hope she gets a better school experience than we did. At least have more of a normal childhood and typical teen experience than we did.”

Hermione looked away, “I hope so too.”

“Anyway, I know you don’t like hearing about the Weasleys but I was surprised to hear that Ginny is engaged again. This will be her fifth marriage. This time to a witch called Grace. She is another reporter for the Daily Prophet. I have been invited to her wedding and the engagement party. I suppose I should go.”

Hermione gave out a little laugh, “Doesn’t surprise me. She was never one to settle down. I was surprised when I got an invite. I must not have been such a bad sister-in-law after all. However, I did help her earlier this year when I offered her advice when Theodore Nott tried to sue her for libel when she published that article about former Death Eaters still in our society.”

“We investigated him,” Harry added, “Technically yes, but there is no evidence to link him directly to any crimes. He claims that he was coerced to get the Dark Mark from his father who was a Death Eater. He defected during the Battle of Hogwarts by following the other Slytherins out of the school. That being said, he strikes me as someone who is clever enough to cover any pureblood supremacy leanings. A lot of them are.” 

Hermione sighed, “I knew that Ginny was right. Nott was a Death Eater. The evidence she showed me was real and was enough to make Nott stand down but it wasn’t enough bring him into a criminal trial. Heaps of people turned to the Death Eaters out of fear but it was only a small number that were involved in atrocities as you know. I know how you feel about this but there are simply not enough spaces in Azkaban.”

“Ginny came to me asking for evidence but obviously I could not give any information to a journalist,” Harry continued, “Especially not a high profile one and definitely not one I consider a longtime friend. I just wish Ron would forgive you.” 

Once of the biggest disappointments that Harry experienced was the breakdown of the friendship between the three of them. Even twelve years after their short lived marriage and bitter divorce Ron refused to speak to Hermione. Harry, who hoped to remain impartial throughout their divorce, had ultimately been forced to choose Hermione over Ron. He and Hermione had careers that were linked. Also, Ron had done some bitter things during the divorce that he did not approve of. 

After the Battle of Hogwarts, Ron had decided to help his brother George run the family joke shop saying he was glad to be done with the fighting. He lived a comfortable life and was married with four children. Harry on the other hand was not done with fighting and never would be. He had been fighting his whole life and was not going to stop after Voldemort was gone. 

They continued to talk about their lives over tea or rather mainly their jobs and Hermione’s daughter as they really did not have much going on in their lives outside work. 

“You know, come to think of it,” Hermione said, “It is close to the twenty year anniversary of the Battle of Hogwarts. In my mind it does not seem so long ago.”

“I know what you mean but after all our efforts have we really progressed all that much? Even you must agree that wizarding society is dying and we are losing a second war. Dark magic cults are growing throughout the country and pureblood supremacy lingers. Even most ministry officials agree we are losing. It is a decline that is slow and insidious rather than Voldemort’s rise and conquer.”

Hermione pursed her lips from the other side of the table and shook her head, “As long as there is some light no matter how weak, we fight.”

“How long can we continue to say that? It always feels like we’re failing. Like all of our efforts are worthless. I can feel it again. It feels like I’m drowning. I’m under deep cold water not going anywhere. I keep on struggling even though my efforts are worthless and I can’t see a reason why I keep on going.”

“How long have you been depressed again?” Hermione asked him.

“For a while, you know that I don’t like to burden other people with it.”

“You need to see the healer again.”

“Hermione,” Harry said with a sigh, “I don’t have time for therapy and it hasn’t been as bad as it was.”

“Harry, please be serious about this. You almost got fired twice because of reckless decisions. Your relationship with Ginny failed because of that. You came very, very close to being killed several times because of your depression apathy and recklessness.”

Harry waved it off, “They could never fire me, they barely have any aurors left. Besides how many failed relationships does Ginny have? Besides her last four marriages?”

Hermione gave him a pout. He knew she was right though. 

Before Hermione could ask further, Pinky, Hermione’s house elf, apparated in front of them. Obviously eager for work.

“Madame Hermione. Would you and Mister Potter like some more refreshments?” 

“I would like another Earl Grey please. Harry?”

“I’ll have a coffee please. Black. No sugar.”

Harry looked at her with a smile, “Remember in Hogwarts when you founded S.P.E.W? I was surprised when I found out you had decided to get one.”

Hermione pouted, “You know I couldn’t manage a small daughter and a job on my own. I also came to realise that the creatures liked to work but as you know, I have made legal protections supporting their ethical treatment. They seem grateful for that.”

“We all appreciate the legal changes you have made.”

Hermione placed her mug on its saucer and looked him dead in the eyes, “Don’t think that people don’t appreciate you, Harry.”


	3. Chapter 3

He was back at work again the next morning. He had not been called out for field work so he used his time to work on researching current cases. After he had finished school, he could not rely on Hermione’s brains so he had to learn and study as much as he could while on the field. He was better at it than he thought it would be, Hermione was booksmart and she learned best through reading and routine while he was less academic but better at thinking quickly and improvising. Hence why she was in law and he was an auror.

Today he decided to dedicate to the Kershaw’s case. The photographs were grisly but it wasn’t like he hadn’t seen thousands of gruesome cases like this before. The magigraph readings from his colleagues’ wand detections were interesting but not helpful at this stage. Usually when the country detector went off they could pinpoint an area of Dark Magic casting if it was a muggle area. From there they could detain suspects and do a scan of the magic performed using that wand. 

This would not be this case. This was a kind of reading that was unlike anything he had seen in the last twenty years and he had seen his fair share obscure dark magic. Finding out what it was alone could solve the case purely out of rarity.

What was more certain was the information that he had currently collected so far about the Kershaws. He had already discovered one link they had to the magical world. Young Timothy Kershaw was a muggle born wizard. His name was clearly written on the Hogwarts enrollment list. His name had also not been crossed off which meant that he was not deceased. There was still hope for Timothy and solving this case.   
“I notice you’re also studying this case,” Celestia said from behind him.  
He jumped, she always interrupted him when he wasn’t expecting her.  
“You’re always taking my work you know that,” she said crossing her arms.  
“Well, I thought you would appreciate all the help you could get.”  
“Do you have any ideas about the kind of magic this is?”  
“I think it’s time we searched the old textbooks for this one.”  
Celestia Carrow dressed in black with frazzled hair, spiked boots and black clothes. To most people in the department and larger ministry, Celestia was a rebellious young punk but to Harry she was a keen information gatherer and investigator. 

He turned back to his inbox and found a further report on the Kershaws based upon more information that she had gathered. The folder was marked ‘urgent’ because violent dark magic murders were near the top of the important cases list. The majority of the reports his team dealt with were marked urgent.

‘Further investigation on possible magical world association: Timothy Kershaw is enrolled in Hogwarts and still listed. Not dead at this stage. Patricia Kershaw nee Smith is sister to Coraline Smith. Registered muggleborn witch. Head of Magical Law Enforcement. However there is no evidence at this stage that Coraline Smith has had any contact with the Kershaws. In fact, it seems that Coraline seems to have been estranged from the rest of her family since sixteen years of age. The Smith family was a very religious conservative family with fifteen children. Coraline was the third and only magical child out of her siblings. There are no other recorded witches or wizards related to that family. It was difficult to try to contact some people from local area who knew the Kershaws but were not connected to their church or larger community. They were very insular people You can see for yourself how well it went. Local people wouldn’t open up to me. It is in my pensive to review. The memory in question was taken by a girl called Harlow whom grew up in the area by left’

He wrote a memo for Celestia as a thank you for gathering information. The memo remodelled itself into a paper plane and shot off in the direction of her desk. He then walked over to the pensive and selected the labelled memory vile from the shelf.

The memory he was transported to was faded and shadowy. Whomever this memory came from, it was a memory they wanted to forget. He and the person the memory came from were trapped inside this dark room. It was too pitch black to see anything. He had no idea where they were and he assumed the person didn’t know either. In the darkness he could hear shallow panicked breathing and the sounds of someone trying to struggle to break free from restraints. 

He could hear a voice plead, “Please, let me go. Please.”  
The voice then began to sob and cry in the darkness again. It was a man’s voice, broken and desperate.

Suddenly a light bulb lit up above them. The room was largely empty except for the chair the young man was tied to and a table with an assortment of homeware tools on it at the far end of the room. The young man couldn’t have been older than Harry. He was wearing a plain white shirt which now was stained with sweat and blood and jeans that looked to be in similar condition. His hair was wet and clung to his head. He was shaking all over. 

He could hear someone beginning to come down the stairs. Thud, Thud, Thud went big heavy boots.  
“Please, I’ll do anything. ANYTHING!!”  
There was a soft laughter from the figure coming down the stairs.  
A deep throated male voice echoed, “There isn’t anything you can do. At least not for now.”  
“I have my family,” the man in the chair shouted, “My wife and my daughter…”  
The figure on the staircase came closer towards the man. Under the light, Harry recognised the figure as James Kershaw, the patriarch of the murdered family. He had a cold, forbidding face and was dressed in dirty overalls.  
“Silence,” Kershaw spoke sternly. There was no mercy in his voice.  
The man whimpered and fell silent.  
“It was your in laws who told me about you. They know about your… unnatural tendencies. They only want what is right for you and their daughter.”  
Kershaw walked over to the table and picked up what Harry recognised as a power drill.   
“Some people forget that the lord almighty sent down his only son who suffered greatly for our sins. His sacrifice will not go forgotten. Some people need a reminder and the only way that ungodly people like you will understand is if you experience it for yourself.”  
There was a cruel look in Kershaw’s eyes. It was a look he had seen countless times. Kershaw enjoyed this.   
He powered up the drill and the man started screaming again. Kershaw started drilling holes in the man’s hands. There was blood dripping from edges of the chair now. Harry felt ill. The man continued to scream.

The memory became foggier after this. Harry didn’t think the man remembered much else of what happened after that. Harry was surrounded by dark grey mist. This was common for traumatic dissociation in that the memory does not come up but rather becomes clouded. However, the feelings of pain and hurt remained. This was true for muggles just as much as it was for wizards.

What the man remembered next was being thrown off the back of a ute onto a damp marsh. The smell of rotting flesh and dank mud was horrendous. Harry assumed they were miles upon miles away from what he assumed was Kershaw’s basement. His body was badly beaten up and aside from having holes in both his hands and his feet, there were slashing marks on his back and arms as well as large bruises forming on his thighs and face. Harry couldn’t see much else that was in the marsh and he did not need to. He got the impression that many people did not get out of this alive.

The only light present was that of the headlights of Kershaw’s white ute. Kershaw was standing over the man and looking him in the face. It was clear that he was relishing the dominance he had over the poor broken person that lay before him.  
“You’ll be saved now, if you just accept Jesus in your heart.”  
Kershaw returned to his ute and drove away, leaving the man deserted, bleeding and alone. Somehow, the man gathered enough strength to go on. He got up, painfully and began to walk along the tire tracks that Kershaw had left behind. One foot in front of the other. It must have taken a great deal of courage and will to live in order for him to survive this. 

With this the memory ended and Harry was relieved to be back in his office again. He read the rest of Celestia’s report.  
‘The muggle man reported this to the local police. They took a statement but it seems like they did nothing about it. I feel infuriated for him. I found him living with his daughter and male partner under an assumed identity. He started a new life after this ordeal. I contacted him as a hypnotherapist that had been recommended by his muggle psychiatrist and got this memory from him. Now I know the statue of secrecy committee will have a fit about this, but I will admit that I did give him some memory modification and calming spells for his severe anxiety and PTSD. This is an interesting case.’

Harry shook his head, the more information he gained on this case the more questions he had.


End file.
